


Bowties and Shells

by FunkyWashingMachine



Series: Christmas Things [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Autistic Krolia (Voltron), Awkwardness, Bittersweet, Bonding, Christmas, Cute, Depressing, Family, Gen, Heartbreaking, Holidays, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Love, Mother-Son Relationship, Parent-Child Relationship, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyWashingMachine/pseuds/FunkyWashingMachine
Summary: Keith and Krolia don't know what to get each other for Christmas





	Bowties and Shells

            “You look a little troubled,” Coran said.

            “Hm?” said Krolia.  “No, it’s nothing.”

            “Well, you know what I always say,” Coran said.  “There’s no such thing as nothing, except on Planet Quelfar.”

            “I’ve never heard you say that.”

            “Well I always think it.  So, what’s the problem?”

            “Something trivial.”

            “Well, I’m listening.”

            Krolia sighed.

            “The wintertime Earth holidays are coming up, and it’s customary to give something to the important people in your life.”

            “Oh, I see,” Coran said.  “Like on Shluffing Day.”

            “Of course.  Well, I’ve been thinking I should get something for Keith.”

            “You have any ideas?”

            “That’s the problem.”

            “Hm,” Coran said.  “Well, this planet certainly has an abundance of garden gnomes.”

            “Is that something he would want?”

            “I’m not sure.  I don’t know this planet very well.”

            “I don’t know my _son_ very well.”

            “I suppose that does present a problem.”

            “You’ve spent time with him.  What’s he interested in?”

            “Well, it’s funny, he doesn’t really _talk_ about that,” Coran said.  “I’d hazard that he’s interested in quiet pursuits.”

            “So, what does that leave us?  Literature?”

            “Hmm… that doesn’t really sound like him, either.”

            “I was afraid of that.”

            “Are there certain parameters for this gift-giving tradition?” Coran asked.

            “It’s supposed to be something you wouldn’t have given otherwise.  So that makes it even harder.”

            “Hmm, yes,” Coran said.  “And I suppose it’s bad to give the wrong thing?”

            “That would mean I’m not THINKING of him.  And I am, I just… don’t know what to do.”

            “Well,” Coran put a hand on her arm.  “I wish I knew how I could help you.”

           

            “Lance?” Keith asked.  “You’re pretty close with your mom, right?”

            “Yeah, of course I am.”

            “What are you getting her for Christmas?”

            “A vacation to literally anywhere in the world by spaceship.  Why?”

            “Because I don’t know what to get _my_ mom.”

            “Huh.  Does your mom even _celebrate_ Christmas?”

            “I don’t know… I just still want to do something for her.”

            “Spaceship vacation, maybe?”

            “Maybe.  Well, I dunno, spaceships aren’t exactly new and special for her.”

            “Right.  So, what kind of things does she like?”

            “I don’t know!  I hardly know her at _all_.”

            “Yeah… that’s rough, buddy.”

            “Well, what kind of things does _your_ mom like?”

            “A lot of stuff.  But I think the best gift I ever gave her was a macaroni sculpture of her head that I made back in kindergarten.”

            “I am not doing that.”

            “Eh, she probably doesn’t even have it anymore.  It probably got blown up.”

            “Maybe you should make her another one for Christmas.”

            “Keith.  I can’t believe you’re such a genius.”

            “Only for OTHER people’s moms, apparently.”

            “Hey, whatever,” Lance said.  “This probably sounds super clichéd, but I’m sure your mom’s more than happy that you’re even ALIVE this Christmas.”

            “Yeah, I know.  I guess it’s just… I’ve never had the chance to DO this before, and now that I do, I’m sucking at it.”

            “Well Keith, it isn’t the _first_ thing you’ve sucked at, and we all still love you.  Your mom’s gotta be the same way.”

            “…thanks.”

            “Hey, nobody’s perfect.  Except Coran.”

            Keith snorted.

            “But seriously,” Lance said.  “Do you really think that macaroni sculpture was worth anything by itself?  Anybody else woulda just thrown it out.  What made it special was that I put the time and thought into it for her.  And also that I’m her kid.”

            “Lance, I am not making a macaroni sculpture.”

            “It doesn’t have to be a macaroni sculpture.  Anything that you put your time and love into.  Aren’t those the things you guys have always wanted?”

            “Yeah, I guess…”

            “Well, there you go.  Time.  Love.  You know, that whole shebang.”

            “You make it sound so easy.”

            “You know what I think, Keith?  I think you’re better at the time-and-love thing than you think you are.  It’s just the ‘words’ part that you suck at.”

            “Is that supposed to be helpful?”

            “I’m guessing it’s not working.”

            “I guess that makes you ALSO not good at words.”

            “Hey!  I’m GREAT at words!”

            “Yeah.  Right.  I still don’t know what I’m gonna do, though.”

            Lance sighed.

            “I wish I could tell you, buddy.”

 

            “Hey, Mom…” Keith said.  “Did Dad ever tell you about Christmas?”

            “He did,” Krolia said.

            “What did he say about it?”

            “He said that people usually treat it as a time to be with the ones you love.”

            “Sounds about right,” Keith said.  “It’s Christmas today.”

            “I know.”

            They looked away from each other.

            “I, uh…” Keith began.  “I wanted to get you something, but I didn’t know what, so I didn’t.  I’m sorry.”

            “Keith.  You’re not the one who needs to be sorry about that.”

            “What?  Look, I’m not mad at you.”

            “I’M mad at me.”

            “Please don’t be.”

            “It’s not just this.  I wanted to spend every year with you.”

            “…yeah.  Me too.”

            “Keith… you deserved so much more than I was able to give you.”

            “But you gave me so much already.”

            “Not without taking something away.”

            They didn’t say anything for a while.

            “You know what’s a thing some people do on Earth?” Keith said at last.  “They make sculptures out of dry macaroni.”

            “On Christmas?”

            “No, kind of whenever.”

            “Would you like to do that now?”

            “Are you gonna join me?”

            “If that’s what you’re doing.”

            “Then sure.”

            They dug out some glue, then went to find a box of macaroni.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thus begins their tradition of making macaroni sculptures on Christmas


End file.
